castles in the air
by The Siege
Summary: You're building castles in the air. No matter how you try to fix them, they'll just come crashing down. [ft angst week; multiple pairings; rated M for mature themes (mainly violence)]
1. ever after (nalu)

**castles in the air**

* * *

**notes:** so here is my entry for the first bonus day. i'm not completely satisfied with it because it's actually been a long time since i last wrote hardcore angst (i'm more of a light angst/drama kinda gal, i think) so i literally just typed random stuff. not quite sure where this idea came from but i rolled with it. hopefully you can somewhat see the prompt incorporated in there...somewhere...i think... TT_TT anyhoo, enjoy!

**disclaimer:** i don't own Fairy Tail (that goes for the rest of this collection too, obvs)

* * *

_ever after_

"You didn't choose this life."

That's what he told her every time she looked in the mirror and saw not a human being, not a woman, but a used and bruised doll. That's what he said every time he found her clutching something sharp, something pointy, something _lethal_ against her wrist while trying not to cry.

That's what he insisted through his own sticky tears every time she stumbled into the apartment sometime in the early morning, hair mussed, makeup smeared, clothes rumpled, and body violated.

He wanted to help her. "Please, Luce," he begged again and again. "You don't have to do this anymore. I'll support you. Please, I love you."

Every day he would say the same thing and today was no different.

She shook her head tiredly and turned away, as he expected. "No, I can't take advantage of you like that. I have to make my own money."

"Then just until you find another job," he suggested desperately, latching onto her arms and pulling her into his body. "I'll even let you pay me back later!"

"Natsu—"

"Lucy, _please_." He muffled his harsh sobs in her shoulder. "_Please_. I can't watch you destroy yourself like this anymore."

Usually, she would give in to her tears at this point and let him hold her until she calmed down. But there was something different about her today. Something empty.

Empti_er_.

"It's all I know how to do now, Natsu," she said indifferently. "It's what I deserve."

"No, it's not! Stop saying that!" He pulled back and stared into her eyes fiercely, searching for—_something_, but finding only resignation. Her eyes were dead; he could barely see any hint of the joyous girl he had fallen in love with. "Lucy, _it wasn't your fault_. Your father chose to destroy himself."

"But I pushed him—"

"You weren't even there!"

"Exactly!" She shoved him away roughly, making him stumble back and fall onto the bed. She glared at him. "I wasn't fucking there when he fucking needed me! I wasn't there to stop him—to help him—to—to—"

He stared as she sucked in a deep breath and recomposed herself. "You don't understand. I should've tried harder for him. But I didn't and this is my punishment."

"Lucy—"

"God, Natsu, hasn't it ever crossed your mind that maybe I _like_ doing this?" she snapped nastily, sneering at him. His eyes widened. "Yeah, that's right. At first, it was painful. Whores don't get to choose who fucks them, you know? But now I'm glad. Because you never let me cut anymore, so this is the only kind of pain I can get."

Natsu's expression was one of abject horror. He reached for her—this broken, empty girl who held his heart in her frail fingers—with a trembling hand but she jerked away. "Lucy, please—"

"_'Lucy, please'_!" she mocked in a high-pitched voice. "God, you're so pathetic. All you ever do is bitch at me. Look, I'm a whore and that's all I'm ever gonna be. If you're gonna stick around, then you'd better get used to it."

"Lucy, what happened?" His voice was a shaky whisper, almost inaudible even in the stuffy stillness of the apartment.

What happened to his Luce, the beautiful girl he had fallen in love with? Looking at her now, he could hardly recognize her anymore. The girl he had fallen for was hopeful and loving, a girl made of stars and love. She had already been working in the brothel for years, but she had still been able to smile genuinely and plan a future with him.

Suddenly—or maybe not so suddenly; maybe it had been such a gradual decline that he just hadn't been able to see it until it was far too late—the light in her eyes was all but extinguished, the warmth of her voice all but gone. Maybe he hadn't tried hard enough to save her—and now she had fallen past the point of no return.

Maybe he had never held the power to save her in the first place.

"I love you," he croaked out brokenly.

She rolled her eyes and walked away. "I thought I loved you too. Then I realized that love doesn't exist."

The door slammed behind her and Natsu finally released the pain in his chest, wondering if hope had finally abandoned him.

* * *

A week passed with no sign of Lucy. At first, Natsu thought she was simply avoiding him. After their fight—was that what it was? A measly fight? It seemed much more significant than that—he expected it. But it had been a week now and he was seriously starting to worry. She wouldn't just leave him without a word, would she? She would at least come back for her stuff and let him know she was leaving, right?

He sighed, burrowing deeper into his scarf as the cold air materialized in the shape of his breath. He quickened his pace, eager to get to the grocery store, where it would undoubtedly be warmer than outside.

He hated winter. Holiday season, his ass. Winter only ever brought him pain and despair.

He thought again of Lucy.

Recently, he had heard on the news that a sadistic serial killer was loose in Magnolia. His first thought had been of Lucy. Where was she? Was she safe? He figured she would be staying at the brothel or with one of the girls who worked there with her which, while not exactly safe, was better than her roaming around alone. But his coincidental run-ins with girls from the brothel informed him that she hadn't been seen for days.

He tried not to panic, but it was difficult. No one had seen her in days—not a good sign. But maybe she was hiding out, lying low somewhere else. Somewhere she had kept secret from him.

His heart ached.

There was a piercing shriek and a violent yell and suddenly all chaos broke out on the street Natsu stumbled as people shoved him in their hurry to run away. He frowned.

What was going on?

"Police! Police! Someone call the police! Hurry!" someone screamed wildly, scrambling out of a small alley that Natsu knew housed only dumpsters, having passed it every time he went out for groceries.

The commotion grew with crowd, and soon Natsu was squeezing himself through tiny gaps between horrified onlookers.

"Excuse me, excuse me, sorry," he muttered as he made his way to the front of the crowd and into the alley.

When he finally saw what was wrong, he stopped dead in this tracks. For a moment, time stood still. Not a particle moved, not a sound whistled through the air. The world was frozen.

Then he found himself on bruised knees, clutching at his chest because _he couldn't breathe_, icy tears running down his cheeks from unblinking eyes and—_was that Lucy? That wasn't Lucy. That couldn't be. Lucy was golden and this_—_this_—_this_—_no. It wasn't Lucy._

Red.

That was all he could see.

The pressure in his chest grew exponentially and all of a sudden his world tilted and he was facing the ground, vomiting for all he was worth.

_No. No. No._

This wasn't happening. This was just a nightmare. Just a horrible, horrible nightmare.

_No._

He would wake up and Lucy would be asleep in his arms and he would kiss her awake and she would smile at him, that brilliant smile of hers, and everything would be okay. This wasn't real.

_It couldn't be_.

There was a strange buzzing sound in his ears and he thought he smelled rusted iron. He gasped for breath, but the winter air was too cold for his lungs, too sharp. He felt like he was being stabbed in the chest with a thousand tiny icicles.

His eyes flickered up and amongst all the frozen red-brown, amongst the tangled mess of something that may have once been a person but certainly wasn't anymore—amongst all that, he saw it.

The sweet blue ribbon still knotted stubbornly around a thick lock of golden gossamer hair, both of which were now forever stained with that ugly, ugly russet red.

He saw it.

Then his head hit the pavement, and he saw no more.

* * *

_We're not a fairy tale, Natsu_, she had said once, ignoring his protests. _We don't get a happy ending._

You were right, Lucy. Because this is our ever after.

* * *

© Copyright 2015 by The Siege


	2. scars (nalu)

**castles in the air**

* * *

_scars_

I feel the sun on my face. Grimacing into a yawn, I blearily blink open my eyes and stretch, feeling a weight over my waist.

Natsu.

Turning over slowly so I don't make too much movement, I come face to face with the man I love.

My eyes trail over his strong features, softened by sleep, my fingers lightly tracing my gaze onto his skin. His determined eyebrows, his tall nose, his sharp cheekbones, his angled jaw, his soft lips—when he's so still and peaceful like this, he looks like living art.

My fingers slide down to his exposed neck and rest on his thick scar, drawing mindless circles over it. The skin has long since smoothed over, but it's still a different color from the rest of his skin.

His eyes twitch and I snatch my fingers away. Slowly, his eyelids rise and I'm staring into his deep, dark eyes, still hazy with sleep. Tentatively, I smile at him and whisper, "Good morning, Natsu."

I can almost see the gears turning in his brain as he slowly looks around and processes everything. He draws his arm away from my body and I try not to miss the comforting warmth too much. He sits up, rubbing his eyes, and I follow him.

"Natsu?" I try again, my heart tired of hoping but unable to stop.

Maybe…maybe today he'll—

"Sorry, who are you?"

Or not.

Forcing my smile larger so it doesn't waver, I hold out my hand and say, "I'm Lucy. Nice to meet you." Again.

He eyes me in confusion but slowly grasps my hand. I savor his touch for barely a second before he quickly pulls away. His eyes flick up and down my body and a blush slowly creeps onto his cheeks as he averts his gaze. "Uh, why are you—I mean, we—I mean, what—"

"We're married." I hold up my left hand to show him the ring he bought for me a year ago. It's a simply gold band inlaid with a tiny pink diamond the color of his hair—simple but perfect. He glances down to find his own ring on his left hand before looking back at me.

But there is still not a hint of recognition in his eyes. Instead, suspicion takes over his face. "I don't know you."

"No, you don't," I agree, smiling sadly at him. "A few months ago, your head was severely injured during a mission. You—you lost all your memories of the last six years as well as the ability to make new memories." I swallow. "We—the guild hasn't found a way to fix it. We're not sure there is one."

"The guild—Fairy Tail?" he asks.

I nod. My heart cracks a bit.

"You're in Fairy Tail?" he clarifies with something slightly less than disbelief.

Another nod. Another crack.

He jumps out of bed and darts around for his clothes. He surprises me with his sudden movement.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like? I'm gonna go to Fairy Tail to confirm the story!"

My heart crumbles a little more.

"You—you don't believe me?" I don't look at him, because I'm afraid the tears will spill over if I see him staring at me in contempt.

"Well—you look like a nice girl, but I can't remember you at all, so I ain't gonna take your word for it. Nothing personal." He flashes a disarming grin at me but it only serves to intensify the ache in my chest.

"Right," I mutter, getting out of bed and pulling on my own clothes.

Before long, he's ready and bouncing on his feet. "Luigi, right? Are you ready to go yet?"

I feel like smiling and crying at the same time when I hear him call me Luigi. I turn away and surreptitiously rub my eyes. "Um, you go ahead. I'll—I'll meet you there later."

"You sure?"

I nod."

I can hear him shrug. "Alright then. See ya later, Luigi!" In a flash, he's gone, the door slamming closed behind him.

I let myself sink to my knees and sob into my hands.

It hurts. It hurts. It _hurts_.

"My name is Lucy…"

* * *

Mira sets down the glass she's cleaning and leans across the bar. "Lucy, how are you?"

I look up at her in surprise. No one's asked me that since the accident, which is no surprise since Natsu was the one who got hurt. "Fine. I'm not the one with brain damage, after all." I try to smile.

She gives me a look. "You're not fine. I can tell you're hurting. Natsu can't be hurting because he doesn't remember anything. That must be killing you."

I let out of harsh bark of laughter and look away, my eyes automatically seeking out Natsu where he's engaged in happy conversation with Lisanna and Gray. "You're right, Mira, but you're not doing a very good job of making me feel better."

There's a pause, and I know she's trying to think of something comforting to say. But there's really nothing.

"Sorry Mira, I didn't mean to snap at you like that." I smile at her. "Thanks for worrying about me."

She shakes her head. "I'll always worry about you, Lucy. There's no need to thank me for that." She wipes down the bar and picks up another dirty glass. "Say, Lucy. I've been wondering…what is it that you and Natsu do every day after you leave the guild?"

I don't answer immediately. Thinking about it sends another sharp stab of pain into my chest and I draw in a shaky breath.

Mira notices and quickly says, "You don't have to answer if you don't want to, of course!"

"It's fine." I shake my head and look at her with too-bright eyes. "We…well, we talk mostly. We find a nice place to sit down—sometimes at my place, or his, or at the park, or by the river—and I tell him about his scars."

"His…scars?"

I nod. "Because he's gotten quite a few new scars since I joined the guild, and his memory ends even before I arrived. So I tell him the story behind each scar that I recognize."

"What about the ones you don't?"

I wince as I say the words. "I make something up."

She doesn't say anything so I glance up at her and find a look of such sadness and compassion that I have to look away immediately. "Oh, Lucy."

"And you know what?" I continue suddenly, the words spilling from my lips. "Sometimes I even make up stories about the scars I _do_ know about, or I switch the stories around, just to see if maybe it'll trigger something in him, but it never does. He always just smiles that big smile of his and accepts it and moves on to the next one."

"Oh, Lucy, I'm so sorry." She sets down the cup and leans over to wrap me in a maternal hug. I turn my face into her shoulder to snuffle my whimpers.

"A-a-and I j-just can't help th-th-thinking that—that if h-he really l-l-loved me as much as he s-said he did" —I gulp down the next wave of tears—"if he really loved me, then w-w-wouldn't he remember me? Just a little?"

She rocks me back and forth, rubbing soothing circles on my back.

"And l-lately I've been thinking—I feel so b-_bad_ for thinking about it but it just _hurts so much_, I can't help it—I've been thinking maybe, maybe I should stop? If-if-if it hurts me so much and it's j-just a waste of time anyway—" My breath catches and a loud wail tears out of my chest, "B-b-b-but I just—I just love him s-s-s-so much!"

My voice cracks and I break down completely, not caring who can hear me. I cry in Mira's arms and drench her nice dress in salty tears while I thump at my heart, frantically willing it to stop hurting and failing.

"I love him—but he never remembers—he doesn't know me, doesn't love me—I'm just forcing his forgotten memories on him—maybe it's not worth it—"

I gasp at my thoughts. No, what am I—what am I even _thinking_—

_Maybe it's not worth it._

And I sob harder.

* * *

"What's this one from?" Natsu traces a small cut on his arm, looking at me questioningly.

My fingers twitch, wanting to touch him, but I restrain myself. If I let myself touch him, I'll probably end up throwing myself at him and scaring him off. I clench my hands into fists in my lap. "That one's a silly one. You were fighting with Gray again—and _losing_, I might add—"

"No way!"

"—and he froze the floor and you slipped on it before you could melt it. You hit the ice really hard and completely cracked it and one of the broken pieces sliced you." I smile a little at the memory. It hadn't been a large wound, but it had been relatively deep and he had sulked about it for days until I promised to help him get revenge.

Natsu scoffs. "Tch. So it's from the ice bastard, huh? Ain't even a cool battle scar."

I just smile.

He stares at me with a slight frown and I suddenly feel extremely self-conscious. "Um, is there something on my face or—"

"Your eyes."

I freeze. I try to look away but his eyes burn into mine, holding me captive. "Wh-what about them?"

"They're so…_sad_."

I inhale sharply.

He inches closer, studying my eyes even more intensely. I still can't look away, because I'm searching his eyes too. So dark, so expressive, so _Natsu_.

He exhales and it almost sounds like confusion. "It's weird. I don't know you, but…I can read your eyes. I can read your eyes like I've always known them."

_Stop it; you're just twisting the knife harder_.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a brief moment before reopening them and forcing a bright grin to my face. "People often say they can read my heart in my eyes. I'm pretty much an open book."

"Nah, you're good at hiding things. I can tell. But you don't need to hide anything from me!" He offers me a breathtaking smile, unaware that he's squeezing the life out of my heart with every word he says, and looks down to point at a long scar on his leg. "Hey, what's the story behind this one?"

I clench my fists tighter and open my mouth. "We were on a mission…"

* * *

I slip out of bed and get ready. Before I leave, I sit on the edge of the bed and watch as Natsu slumbers peacefully.

"Look Natsu," I whisper to his sleeping form. "I've got my own scar right here." I pull my shirt collar aside and scratch an X over my heart with my nails. "Wanna know how I got it?"

He doesn't respond, of course, and I giggle. "I got it from you."

He snores.

"You didn't mean to, I know. You never mean to hurt me. But this one was inevitable." I stare out the window, at the moon, the sky, the stars. "You hurt me here every day when you wake up without knowing who I am, what we've been through to get where we are. When you act like nothing's wrong because for you, _nothing is_, but for me—for me, it's _everything_."

I take a deep breath. "You're my world, Natsu—but I can't live like this anymore. I can't call this living. It hurts too much and every day is the same. The exact _same_. So I'm leaving. I'm going to try to put my heart and my life back together."

I reach down and carefully slide his ring off his finger, then lean over him and smile at his drooling face. Brushing his bangs gently away from his eyes, I bend over and press a soft kiss on his lips. He stiffens under me but relaxes just as quick, and I pull away with a sigh.

"I will always love you, Natsu. I'm sorry for leaving you. But it's okay."

The door quietly shuts behind me and I take my first step away from the only family I've ever really known.

_You'll never even know I was here_.

* * *

Natsu furrows his brows and slowly blinks awake. It's still the middle of the night and he's not sure what woke him up. Groaning, he props himself up and rubs his eyes, breathing deeply.

He frowns and sniffs again.

There's a sweet scent in the air—as familiar to him as his own soul, and yet he can't place it. He wracks his brain through his friends, but comes up blank. No one he knows smells like that. Lisanna's scent is similar, but this scent has a hint of honey, whereas Lisanna's is more vanilla.

He shakes his head. No, he doesn't know who this scent belongs to but he _knows_ it. He recognizes it at a primal level.

Who could it be?

He takes in long drags of air, unwilling to let go of the scent but already it's dissolving away.

"Who _is_ it?" he mutters in frustration.

Raising his nose again, he realizes that it's already gone. With a huff, he pouts and glares out the window, at the twinkling stars. There's something there, something in the far reaches of his mind that he knows he will never unlock.

A flash of yellow. A bell-like laugh. And—

He yawns.

"I'll think about it in the morning," he says to himself, feeling his tired eyes droop closed. He sinks back down into his blanket and begins snoring away.

He'll never smell that strangely familiar scent again. But it doesn't matter because by morning, he'll have forgotten all about it.

* * *

© Copyright 2015 by The Siege


	3. demons (miraxus)

**castles in the air**

* * *

**notes:** ugh i'm so sorry for the long wait! i've been sick and uninspired and studying for finals and well yeah. just hasn't been a great week for me, writing-wise. so now i'm way late and i actually went out of order a little but better late than never, yeah? :) enjoy (?)

* * *

demons

There are three reasons I can't use my power anymore. Three demons; three _skeletons_ in my closet.

First and foremost is Lisanna.

Self-explanatory. She died; it was my fault. The guilt and shame and anger overpower any desire to use magic. After she died, I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't think—I had to punish myself for letting her die. But most of all, I had to punish myself for that small kernel of relief I felt knowing that I was still alive.

I would have died in her place. Everyone knew that. But I can't deny that I was glad to be alive.

That made me hate myself even more.

Second is Elfman.

He blamed himself so much for Lisanna's death, but it was really my fault. I know he's never seen it that way but it was all my fault. Elfman is such a compassionate, caring person—a great man. I know he wished with all his heart to be dead in place of Lisanna, but I wasn't about to let that happen, selfish as I am. There was no way I'd let him go after losing Lisanna.

It hurt, seeing him rage and cry and hurt himself over her death. It hurt even more knowing he didn't blame me at all, even though he had been trying to help me, and she had been trying to help him. My aggressive mindlessness forced him into his ultimate takeover before he was ready, and that's why Lisanna died.

What hurt most was knowing there was nothing I could do or say to make him feel better.

Third—third is _him_. Him with his shock of golden hair, his antagonistic nature, his bold scar. Him with his harsh words, his _honest_ words, his careless insensitivity, his lightning hot temper—too hot, _scalding_ hot.

His utter lack of sympathy.

Why in the world did I go to him for comfort?

They taunt me in my sleepless nights while I cling to consciousness like a lifeline, though frankly, reality is not much better than my nightmares. They slash at me, cut me open until I bleed truth and tears and pain and hate. They make me crazy with guilt.

My demons.

Slowly but surely, Elfman recovered and I forced myself to walk with him—I didn't want to be alone, left behind in the past anymore. Selfish, but that was no surprise.

When he mastered his full-body takeover, he mostly disappeared from my nightmares. Occasionally, after a particularly bad day, he will appear again and tear me apart, but those nights are few and far between. Sometimes, even Lisanna stays away for a night, and it's a mix of gratitude and shame that fills me when I feel how glad I am not to face her for a night.

But _he_ is always there.

Mocking me, jeering at me, telling me how useless I am, how shameless, how _demonic_ I am. He sees through all my masks and prods at my very soul with every word.

What's worse is that my heart, body, and mind _crave_ him, want him so much. Clearly, my selfishness knows no bounds. I want him to be mine, all mine, only mine—but alas, he is not someone I can ever hope to ensnare, magic or no.

"It's your fault, you know. What right do you have to live such a happy life?"

I know, I _know_.

"You're so selfish, Mirajane. Maybe even more than me. Do you know what that means?"

I _know_, dammit! You think I don't know greedy I am? How _wicked_ I am?

"Your takeover really suits you. Satan Soul. You're a demon of a woman, Mirajane."

Stop it, stop it, _stop_!

"It's too bad you can't use it anymore. You make a gorgeous demon, Mirajane. Dark and cunning."

No, stop—

"Pretending to be all sweet for your brother and the rest of the guild? Oh Mirajane, you are too good at acting good."

Please—

"What's this? Are you…in _love_ with me, Mirajane? Well, this is certainly unexpected! Who would have thought, hm?"

No,_ please_—

"Do you want me, hm? Want me all for yourself like the selfish demon you are? Even after all you've done, you still want more. What right do you have to desire anything, let alone me?"

"I know, I know, I know, _I know, Laxus, goddammit, I already know_! So please…"

He leans in towards me with that disgustingly handsome smirk on his face and I don't even know if I'm awake or asleep anymore. I want to look away but his electric blue eyes trap me firmly.

"Please what, Mirajane? I'm just telling the truth. I'm trying to connect with you, demon to demon. Here, have me. Will that make you feel better?"

He kisses me, hard and bruising, and all I know are his unyielding lips, his fingers digging into my me, and my tears running down my face because it's _so good_ and I want moremore_more_ and his teeth pierce my skin and there's pain in my soul in the _best_ way and—

"Laxus, _please_—"

—and he is a demon who lives under my skin and inside my mind and _I never want to let go._

* * *

© Copyright 2015 by The Siege


	4. broken promises (gruvia)

**castles in the air**

* * *

_broken promises_

It replays in Juvia's mind in slow motion, but in the heat of the moment, Juvia could barely comprehend the blur before it slammed into her in a haze of black hair, tan skin, and red blood.

Red, red, red. So much red.

It was Juvia's fault for being distracted, she knows. If she hadn't been trying to catch a moment of rest after striking down her enemy, she would have seen the incoming weapon and dodged it in time. If she hadn't been so slow—if she hadn't been so tired—if she hadn't been in pain—if she hadn't been right beside him—

If, if, if.

Drip, drip, drop.

"It wasn't your fault, Juvia," Lucy murmured soothingly at the funeral with rivers wearing down her cheeks. "You know any one of us would've taken that hit for you. He just happened to be right there. And you know he doesn't regret it."

Juvia nodded, unable to even muster the energy to feel indignant at her love rival trying to comfort her about her lost love. She knew Lucy was right, but that didn't make her feel any better.

If anything, it made her feel worse.

Juvia kneels down in front of the gravestone. It's shaped liked a group of icicles jutting out of the dirt, as if he had been accidentally buried underground and is fighting his way out.

Except he's not.

He can't. Not anymore.

"Juvia…Juvia broke her promise. Juvia always keeps her promises but she broke this one. Juvia—Juvia promised Gray-sama's father that she would take care of Gray-sama. Juvia—Juvia promised!"

She hunches forward, her head nearly hitting the spikes of the stone, her tears indistinguishable from the raindrops hitting the ground. It hasn't stopped raining since he died.

"Juvia…Juvia promised…to protect Gray-sama…Juvia is sorry…Juvia is so sorry, Gray-sama!" She hiccups and sobs and wails. "Juvia was supposed to protect Gray-sama…Juvia is the one who should be dead! Ju-Juvia is s-s-so sorry!"

Her screams are drowned out by thunder and the heavy deluge of water. She has opened up the heavens' tear ducts for him. She would do anything for him.

If only she could exchange her life for his.

"I'm so sorry…"

* * *

© Copyright 2015 by The Siege


	5. bleeding out (gruvia)

**castles in the air**

* * *

**notes:** this can be considered a sequel to _broken promises_, but it can also stand alone. up to you :)

* * *

_bleeding out_

It was by accident that she discovered this method of coping with her pain. She knew it wasn't healthy or helpful—in fact, she knew it was downright self-destructive—but she couldn't stop herself. Because it felt so good.

She had accidentally sliced her finger while chopping vegetables. It wasn't anything surprising, really—she had gotten much clumsier and more scatterbrained since—

Since.

She lived each day as if she was dreaming and was just waiting to be woken up.

But this time, while she stared at the cut uncomprehendingly, she realized that it didn't hurt.

Well, it did—but in the best way.

It hurt in a way that jolted her brain, reminded her that she was alive and awake. It hurt in a way that the pain in her heart slowly flowed out with the blood. It hurt in a way that made her want to hurt some more.

And so.

She had let the cut bleed out until it crusted over before cleansing it so she wouldn't get infected. Then, as she stared at her hands in wonder, she had grabbed the knife and sliced two more fingers.

That's how it started.

As time passed, she moved from her fingers to her hands and feet, and then to her arms and legs. On days when she really wanted to hurt, she tried out her stomach and back, and even tried out her chest, lightly, right over her heart.

It got harder to hide the scars. Luckily, her clothes generally covered most of her skin, but she knew one of these days she was going to cut her face, and then even her clothes would be useless. But not yet. No one knew yet.

She knew Erza suspected and had shared her suspicions with Levy and Lucy, but none of them had any solid evidence, so they had only casually approached her once and left her alone since. She was careful, of course, very careful, because she knew her friends would not approve, let alone understand.

Because while they hurt over losing him too, they didn't hurt like she did.

It was on the eighty-sixth cut that she ran into trouble. By then, she was having difficulty finding unmarred skin and had resorted to slitting across old scars, which hurt in an absolutely delicious way. It was the anniversary of his death and she was feeling particularly dead, so it was her seventh cut of the day.

She really should've stopped.

Dropping the knife, she stumbled to the bathroom, blinking blearily, mind going hazy, cuts burning cold. She leaned heavily against the sink, looking at her reflection, but her vision was blurry. The cut on her cheek stung sharply every few moments and she belatedly recognized the salty tears slipping down her face.

She smelled iron in the air and tasted it on her tongue and thought,_ Oops. Juvia is losing a lot of blood. That is bad._ She thought maybe she should do something about it, except she was tired and sleepy and she wanted to see Gray-sama.

"Gr…ay…sama…"

She barely felt herself fall to the ground, her legs having lost all their strength. The ground was ice cold, like Gray-sama, and she curled in on herself, trying to hug the floor closer. Her eyes slipped closed and she thought she heard his velvety voice calling her name, or maybe that was his comforting hand on her head. Her mind felt like it was floating away.

_Gray-sama, I'm coming…_

She smiled as she finally woke up.

* * *

© Copyright 2015 by The Siege


	6. gone forever (gajevy)

**castles in the air**

* * *

**notes:** oh my starry star stars i am so soooo soososososososoosososososososoosososososososososo SO completely sorry for the HUMONGOUS delay. i haven't been inspired by ANYTHING lately, but i sat myself down today and decided to finish this once and for all and that's exactly what i did. (well almost.) so yeah. i've got this and the next two all done and ready for posting but idk if i'll post them all up at once. might stagger it. then again, i suck at holding myself back from posting stuff cuz i'm always so EXCITED for people to read it so maybe not. we'll see. still have the final bonus day to worry about, but i think i can crank something out. hopefully my muse doesn't decide to abandon me the moment i pull my ass off my bed to wash up because that would not be nice. nope. yeah. ok enjoy :P

**edit:** i just realized this one is very similar to "broken promises," at least in premise, and i am very sorry for my lack of originality. i'd planned them both this way without even realizing it. please forgive my lack of foresight and i hope the similar plots/ideas don't bother you.

* * *

_gone forever_

"Gajeel! Gajeel! Are you okay? Gajeel! Answer me!"

He groaned and opened his eyes with much effort, grimacing as her concerned face came into view. "Shaddup, shorty, yer too loud."

He watched in satisfaction as the glint in her eyes intensified into a small flame.

"Don't tell me to shut up, you overgrown porcupine!" she snapped, incensed, as he small hands hovered frantically over his battered body. "I—if only I hadn't been distracted—"

"We're in a war, short stack, it's a given that there're enemies everywhere," he grouched before coughing painfully and spitting blood onto the ground.

Her eyes tightened at the sight of red and she was practically wringing the blood out of her hands at this point. Slowly, shakily, he lifted his arm and rested it heavily on her twitchy fingers, halting their movement.

"Just…stop," he heaved, blinking clumsily as he felt his energy leaving his body along with his lifeblood. Her face started to blur but he'd be damned if he was going to leave the world with her looking at him like that. So he forced a tired smirk and drawled, "Didn't know I…was so important to ya…shrimp. I always…knew ya were in-inta…me."

Ah yes, there it was again, the fiery strength in her eyes that told him she would be alright without him. That was what kept him going, his only excuse for interacting with her. Because he never deserved her forgiveness, much less her friendship, and _never ever ever_ her heart, so he chose to be close to her in the only way he knew.

"Ugh, Gajeel, you insufferable bastard! Don't you dare go dying on me now, do you hear me? If you die because you were protecting me I swear I will find a way to make you come back so I can have the pleasure of beating you to death myself!" Levy yelled furiously at him, her hands now clutching tightly to his.

"Kinky," he ground out, and he really couldn't deny the chuckle that bubbled up his chest at the angry blush on her face.

Oh, but she was beautiful when she was all heated and angry, as close to passionate as he'd ever let her be around him, and it would've been blasphemy if he said it didn't turn him on.

"How could ya…ever hope ta beat me…when ya can't…even watch…yer own back?" he taunted, referring to just moments before.

Her eyes widened and her fingers squeezed him even more tightly as she turned to look at the slumped body of her attacker. She had been a little too preoccupied with another opponent and hadn't seen this guy coming at all, but Gajeel had been watching, of course—he was always watching her—and hadn't even realized that he'd thrown himself in front of her until the blade was deep in his chest.

When she turned her innocent face back to him, they were spilling with tears and he groaned a curse because dammit it all, she was an ugly crier and that was the _only reason_ he didn't want to see her cry, cross his heart, hope to die.

Oh wait, he _was_ dying.

"Gajeel, please, please don't die, please, no, Gajeel, _please_! I—I—I—I swear if you die I will hate you forever, do you understand? Forever! That means _forever_!"

"Jesus, I'm not…stupid, shrimp, I know…what forever m-means." His vision was going spotty now and he knew he didn't have long left. "And I can deal with…ya hating me…forever. Ya should any…way.

"Because I…I hate"—_when ya cry, especially over me; when I see th' scars from our bloody past and you try ta hide 'em from me and my guilt; when ya look at me with them eyes full of life and laughter and, God forbid, love, even when yer lookin' at me and ya should never look at at me like, 'cuz I ain't shit next to you_—"ya."

_I hate ya._

And it was the biggest lie in the universe and he hoped she'd never find out.

But _he_ would never know that she bent over his cold body and cried and cried and cried as she whispered those three beautiful, forbidden words because he was already long gone.

* * *

© Copyright 2015 by The Siege


	7. incinerate (nalunali)

**castles in the air**

* * *

_incinerate_

She watches the paper go up in flames.

It isn't even that she's jealous—though she _is_, but it's more than that.

It's the way he flashes a brief smile at her before he runs off; it's the coldness of her bed when she wakes up gasping and choking and crying; it's the absence of his head in her lap on the train.

It's not always, and it's not much, but it's glaringly obvious, at least to her, and it _hurts_.

It hurts, because she's _lonely_.

Which is stupid, she fully recognizes, because it's not like he's _abandoned_ her or anything; he would never do that. He still spends time with her, still bursts into her apartment uninvited and eats her refrigerator empty, still grabs her by the hand and pulls her along behind him on missions. He's still around, yes, but not as much.

And it honestly shouldn't be this big a deal, except that when she's with Levy or Erza or Gray or Mira or even Lisanna—because yes, they _do_ spend time together and she _does_ rather adore this white-haired girl who has come back from the dead—or just anyone who is not _him_, there's this horrible ache in her chest that begs her attention, demands that she get up and find him _right this minute or so help me I'll just cave your chest in_. And it's annoying, it really is, because she can't seem to do anything, or even just be herself without him around anymore.

It's pathetic.

The jealousy only makes it worse.

The flames lick higher and higher up the page, curling the blackened edges, turning her precious words into irreversible ashes.

She feels like she's burning up the same way.

She feels like the biggest bitch every time he says, "Hey Luce, Happy and I are gonna go fishing with Lis today, so I'll see ya tomorrow!" and wishes it were her he was spending time with.

She feels so fake every time she smiles widely and says, "Oh, have fun! Tell Lisanna I said hi!" when she really wants to frown and ask him to stay.

She's so _selfish_.

And she can't help it.

It's not like he'd ever return her feelings anyway; he simply doesn't think about those kinds of things. Somehow, she doubts that he'll ever feel that way about anyone. Which is why she's okay just being his best friend.

The problem is that she's not anymore.

As time passes, she can see how much Natsu and Lisanna are reconnecting. They have inside jokes built on inside jokes from their childhood, memories upon happy memories to think about together ad though he still spends time with Lucy, that time slowly but surely wanes away.

Until she's simply another guild member to him.

He doesn't do it on purpose, of course, because that's not him at all, but it still bothers her when he bursts into her room two hours late to go fishing or shopping because he "lost track of time with Lisanna." Or when he constantly checks the time around her and when she asks if he's busy, he apologizes profusely ad admits that he has plans with Lisanna and could he leave early to get ready?

It's exhausting to smile, and smile, and smile, and smile and smile and smile and smileandsmileand…

She's tired.

Tired of having to excuse herself from the guild when she remembers that Natsu and Happy and Lisanna are on a mission even though she desperately needs rent money and she swears she asked him last week if he would go on a mission with her this week. Tired of escaping to the bathroom to wash her face and get rid of any evidence of tears in her eyes. Tired of the heavy ache in her chest that only grows tighter and makes it hard to breathe and thumping and thumping and _thumping_ doesn't make it any better.

When she wakes up in the middle of the night, veritably _sobbing_ her heart out and clawing at her chest as if she can tear it apart and make room for her lungs to expand again, when the nightmares crowd in on her and she can't even hear herself screaming anymore, _when he forgets to ask her how she's been and she almost lets herself break down right then and there in the middle of the whole fucking guild_, she knows.

That she's completely in love with him and guess what? She can't even call herself his best friend anymore.

Because though he never forgets her, the number of days between the last time she's spent any meaningful time with him and the next grow ever more with each passing day, and sometimes when she's alone at home, she tries to imagine his face, his voice, his brightness, _and she can't_. There was a time before when she could have conversations with the Natsu in her mind but now—now she has difficulty remembering the laugh wrinkles by the corners of his eyes, the shape of the scar of his neck, and—did he get a haircut or has his hair always been that short?

She feels like the moment she met Natsu that fateful day in Hargeon, he lit her on fire and his presence was the only thing that kept her from burning away in it. Now that he's gone more often than not—well, now she feels exactly like the novel she's set to fire, the novel that she'd slaved away at for days, months, _years_, only for it to end up as ashes on the wind because Natsu was written all over it and she could hardly bring herself to look at it anymore, much less write for it.

So it burns and burns and burns her and the ache in her chest balloons into a magnificent explosion that leaves her feeling completely and utterly hollow. She goes down by the river and sprinkles the ashes of her once-upon-a-time into the air and across the water and hopes that now she's been burned to nothing in his fire, maybe one day she'll feel alive again.

For now, she tries to remember what it means to breathe.

* * *

© Copyright 2015 by The Siege


	8. END

**castles in the air**

* * *

_E.N.D._

Natsu had been acting strange lately. It was…odd. More so than usual. Lucy wasn't sure what to make of it. Should she be worried or—?

He had been setting fires in dangerous places—small fires, but dangerous nonetheless. Fanning a flame slightly too close to Happy's tail, shooting a ball of fire that grazed by Gray's head, even burning a circle around Erza's cake. There was a mildly crazed spark in his eyes and his laugh sounded…wild. Wild_er_.

Lucy just didn't know what to think.

She watched him more closely but it was hard to tell if there was anything wrong. She could have sworn that she'd seen something dark and smoky fly into his eyes at the last battle, but his behavior hadn't really changed all that much.

After a few months, she decided she was just being paranoid.

Of course, that's when everything went to hell.

She had gone to sleep as usual, knowing she would wake up to Natsu's face in the morning. Sometime in the middle of the night, a burning smell filtered through her nostrils and a scorching heat wrapped around her body, but she had become so used to Natsu's fiery presence that her subconscious recognized it as Natsu and she snuggled deeper into her sheets.

Then she felt the flames.

She flew out of bed, screaming as she tried in vain to smack the fire from her skin. Tears budded in her eyes as she noticed the bloody red of the blaze dancing charred paths across her skin and devouring her apartment. Rolling around to smother the flames, she moaned for help and caught sight of two glowing eyes above her.

"Na..tsu…" she choked out. "Hel…p…"

He blinked at her and tilted his head. Then he smiled, his teeth sharp and gleaming white, and if she hadn't been in so much pain, she would've shivered. Because it was not Natsu's smile.

It was a demon's smirk.

Horrified, her eyes widened and blinked away the tears to see two long and twisted horns jutting from each side of his head and two scaly clawed hands reached for her. His head was an inferno of dancing reddish-pink light.

He was terrifyingly beautiful.

"Natsu?" He cackled, a long stream of fire shooting from his mouth and catching onto her hair. She was too exhausted to care. "Who is this Natsu you speak of? I am E.N.D.!"

He said something more, but Lucy was already floating into unconsciousness, slowly losing the battle against the hungry flames eating at her skin. They were so hot and painful, definitely not Natsu's flames. No, this was not Natsu. She wasn't sure Natsu still existed inside his body anymore.

_Ah, I really should've done it sooner_, she thought vaguely as her mind slowly slipped away. _I should've told him sooner…I should've been braver. Sorry, Natsu. Sorry I didn't get to tell you…I love—_

* * *

© Copyright 2015 by The Siege


	9. skin and bones (jerza)

**castles in the air**

* * *

**notes:** and it's finally done! super super late and i apologize immensely. i'm sorry to leave you with something so short and mediocre but i just really wanted to get this done and jerza is so difficult to write. i'll try again someday, don't worry, haha. there is just so much angst potential for this couple! ;) enjoy! fluff week stuff will be posted soon!

* * *

_skin and bones_

They are one and the same.

He is made of her skin and she of his bones and that is all she knows for sure.

He found her, young and lost and disillusioned, and gave her a name that she carries in her hair every single day. He found her and a friendship that gave him hope for escape and a better future.

So why are they facing each other like enemies when they haven't seen each other in so many years?

It's wrong; everything's wrong. Erza's skin crawls as she studies him, her stance wary and alert. Everything about this is wrong because she…how can she be fighting _Jellal_?

The dark smirk on his face looks misplaced and Erza shudders at the sight of it. His voice taunts her, only it's not him—it _can't_ be him. Jellal would never be so horrible to her. Jellal…is not evil.

And yet it hurts. As if there is living link magic cast on their souls, every strike he lands on her is painful, but every hit she lands on him is many times worse. So she knows it is his body, the very same one that gave her strength when she felt weak, courage when she wasn't brave, comfort when all she could do was cry.

Because they are born of the same mold and they share their pain, and _this is something she knows to be true_, so why is he still fighting her? Why did he embrace darkness? _Why didn't he confide in her?_

But she knows the answer.

It is because she was, is, and always will be weak. Weak as the fragile skin that hides her even more flimsy bones, cloaked behind her body of armor as she pretends to be strong. She's managed to fool everyone else, but he is the one person who has always been able to see through her armor. He is the only one who can strip her naked with only his eyes, read her soul as easily as any book.

He will always be the chink in her armor.

Because he is of her skin and she of his bones, and no matter how defenseless he lays before her, she will never be able to bring her sword down on his—her—_their_—heart.

Because they are the same, and that is something they _both_ know.

* * *

© Copyright 2015 by The Siege


End file.
